


Waltz Of The Little Guy

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Religion, coming-out, dubious religious symbolism, not so innocent talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Erskine chose Steven Rogers for his experiment but Steve is not certain he is the man for the job, a "good man".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, this story contains some interpretations of the Old Testament that are not what one could call "conservative". If you generally tend to prefer a more traditional approach to the Bible and religion in general you might want to proceed with caution. :)

“Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. The strong man who has known power all his life, he loses respect for that power, but the weak man knows the value of strength and knows compassion.”

“Thanks--” Steve looked down with a soft sigh. “I think.” 

Erskine’s words were strangely comforting, soothing even, and that night after spending days wondering if he was the man for the job, if he could really make it in the Army, Steve couldn’t have found better company. The older man trusted him, he had given him the chance of a lifetime, the most important opportunity anyone ever had. He was a great person, a good scientist, a genius and a man of honor that was why Steve appreciated him so much and never turned down the opportunity of a conversation in the scientist’s quarters, far from the soldiers’ barracks where he felt out of place.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are,” Erskine said in an encouraging tone after pouring them two drinks. “Not a perfect soldier but a good man.”

Steve felt a strange, warm sensation in his chest when Erskine pointed at him. It could have been the beginning of yet another sudden asthma attack or just whatever whim his body had decided to indulge in right now. He took a breath and the glass, raising it, trying to sound cheerful.

“To the little guys!”

He was about to drink when Erskine interrupted him, catching his hand just before the glass touched his lips. “No, no… wait, wait! What am I doing? No, you have a procedure tomorrow, no fluids!”

With a sigh Steve put down the drink. Too bad, he could have used some liquid courage right now. “Alright, we’ll drink it after.”

“No, I don’t have a procedure tomorrow. Why drink after? I’ll drink it now.” Erskine shrugged with one of his funny pouts and for the first time in weeks Steve let out a sincerely amused chuckle.

He looked at the scientist as he drank and tried not to let the importance of the day weigh on him, but it wasn’t easy. Thinking about all the possible consequences, he felt uneasy. Steve’s body was frail, but his brain wasn’t weak and he could imagine everything that could happen, or so he thought. And even if he wanted this surgery, if he desperately wanted to be a part of this experience, he felt like he had to be honest with Erskine. He owed him the truth. 

The German thought he was a good man because he didn’t know everything about Steve, he didn’t know the secrets only Bucky knew. The other side of Steve Rogers, the not-so-good boy from Brooklyn. With a frown, Steve rubbed a hand on his sore neck and looked away. He licked his lips, feeling his fingers shake nervously.

“Doctor,” he started in a weaker but determined voice. “I haven’t told you everything about me, and I prefer to be honest because it might.… I want to be a part of your experience. I really want to try and be a good soldier. I want to save people, no matter what happens....”

Erskine put down his second drink and looked at him, both concerned and curious. “It is normal to be afraid, Steven, that doesn’t mean you are not brave enough. I cannot say that my mind is totally at peace, right now, and--”

“No, no, I’m not afraid,” Steve half-lied, blushing. “That’s not it. It’s about who I am. The kind of person I am. I’m not such a good man, actually.”

“Allow me to doubt it,” Erskine smirked. “Whatever you might have done in the past, I am certain that you had a good and honorable reason. I do not see you acting for no less than the greater good.” Steve licked his lips again. He got up and looked outside the window. The military camp was dark, empty, all the men in their barracks for curfew. 

“Doctor,” he sighed without looking at him but with a desperate determination in his voice. He wouldn’t fail, he wouldn’t be afraid. This experience wouldn’t work if he lied, that was if Erskine still wanted to inject him the serum afterward.

“I am a homosexual. I have always been, as far as I remember, and I’ve always tried my best to be a good boy, but I could never fight these feelings. That’s the whole truth about me: I am a sinner if not by acts at least by my thoughts. I want to be the soldier you need, and you already think I’m rash and impetuous. If I really listened to my heart, I would kiss you right now, and from what you tell me about the serum….”

A soft chuckle stopped him and Steve frowned, placing a hand on the window. He really hoped he was right to trust Erskine because the man could turn him in and have him kicked out of the Army or much worse. Steve did not care about his reputation, he just didn’t want to let Uncle Sam down. But who was he to ask understanding and compassion from a man whose trust he had betrayed? Steve feared many reactions from his friend and mentor and didn’t expect a warm hand to land softly on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

“Come here, Steven. We need to talk, first things first.” His voice sounded amused and playful not upset, and Steve couldn’t help wondering if Erskine had misunderstood him. Perhaps he didn’t know what ‘homosexual’ meant? The doctor sat back on one of the beds and smiled a gentle, almost fond, and fatherly smile.

“Loving men does not make you a bad person, trust me,” he simply stated, and Steve let out a soft sigh. He understood Steve and perhaps the rumors about Europeans were true, and that’s Erskine didn’t react as badly as he had expected? 

“It is frowned upon almost everywhere, and I can’t say the nuns were.…” the soldier tried to argue, slightly confused.

“Loving men is not a crime. I refuse to see it that way,” Erskine smiled. “Have you read your Bible?”

“Of course!” Steve replied, slightly miffed that the doctor could suggest he had such bad upbringing. Erskine opened the top drawer of the closest nightstand to pull out a thick book. 

Seeing Steve’s curious look he explained, “We, Jewish people, do acknowledge the Old Testament, you know?”

“Sure,” the soldier nodded politely. Erskine flipped the pages for a while before finding what he wanted.

“Here, do you remember the friendship of David, slayer of the Philistines, and Jonathan, son of King Saul?” Steve raised an eyebrow as the scientist started reading, punctuating his sentences with his raised finger. 

“ _As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul._  
And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father's house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul.  
And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt.  
And David went out and was successful wherever Saul sent him, so that Saul set him over the men of war. And this was good in the sight of all the people and also in the sight of Saul's servants.”

Steve blinked softly, carefully listening to the warm and soothing voice with a funny accent. He let it sink in and smiled. “This is a friendship, just like Bucky and I have, a beautiful and strong feeling, but it’s not scandalous.”

Erskine nodded and raised a finger. “After that, Jonathan betrayed his father for David, preferring him over his own family, and when later Jonathan passed, David said these well-known verses:

“ _Jonathan lies slain on your high places._  
I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;  
very pleasant have you been to me;  
your love to me was extraordinary, surpassing the love of women.”

Troubled by these new perspectives, so different than what the Church had taught, Steve shook his head. “This, this may sound… yes, but they had wives!”

“Everybody had a wife or two in ancient times,” Erskine shrugged. “But what matters to me is that friendship, that partnership-- it’s all about love and trust. The Bible tells us that men who love each other are important and matter, that love is love, and as long as you don’t commit evil deeds, there is nothing wrong about it. It is not scandalous to love whomever you want, as long as you remain a good person deep inside. And that’s what you are, Steven Rogers.”

Once again, Erskine pointed at his chest but this time he gently touched over Steve’s irregular beating heart, making him feel slightly stronger and warm inside. The soldier looked deep into the brown eyes looking down at him. Even if the Pope himself had told him this, Steve wasn’t sure he would have believed it, but such an intelligent and trustworthy man as Erskine couldn’t be wrong. The man was never wrong except, perhaps, in placing all his faith and hopes in Steve.

“So you don’t think that… hm….” Steve said, but his voice trailed off as he hesitated.

“That what?” Erskine suggested, raising an eyebrow. “That the serum might make you even more homosexual? I don’t think that could be possible. Maybe it will make you love people more, but that’s because you care about others, not because of your personal preferences.” Comforted, Steve nodded and ran a hand on his neck. 

“I see.”

“Besides, if homosexuals are feared by the Nazis, doesn’t it automatically mean they must be good people?” Erskine added, trying to sound positive despite all the sadness and worry in his voice. Steve remained silent for a while, enjoying the short moment of peace and freedom his mentor had granted him. For the first time in years Steve was reassured. 

“You know, you’re the first person to talk to me like this. Bucky, he-- he knows, and he never was sore at me. But, he doesn’t understand how I could not love the ladies, he always tried to get me to date girls, hoping one would fix me.”

“I suppose that’s another form of love, a bit awkward maybe but his way of showing he loved you,” Erskine guessed, as always so good at reading people.

Steve nodded in agreement and reached out his hand. “So, no hard feelings then?” he smiled as they shook hands.

“No hard feelings, you still remain my first choice,” Erskine admitted. “But no more of this you kissing me. You save your kisses for people your age. You deserve better than a silly old man who never leaves his lab.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry,” Steve blushed, touched by such friendly advice. Never had he been rejected so nicely. Yet another thing he appreciated about Erskine-- his genuine kindness. Someone with such talent and intelligence could easily lose his mind and become a mad scientist, some kind of delusional Dr. Frankenstein. But he remained a good trustworthy man, a model, one of the many examples Steve would follow all his life.

It’s only as he got up to put the Bible back in the drawer that Steve fully understood Erskine’s words. He turned around, a stunned look on his face. “W--wait a minute. You didn’t say you weren’t into men; you just said we weren’t the same age!”

An amused smile bloomed on Erskine face as he witnessed once again the clever mind of Steve Rogers. “I said that you would be better off with young people like yourself. And if you must know, just as David, I love Jonathan and--”

“Is it possible to love both?” Steve cut him off, sincerely surprised.

“Yes, one can love both, men and women,” Erskine smirked. If the revelation comforted Steve, to know that someone as respectable and good as the genius was ‘this kind of man,’ he was unsettled by the earlier remarks about Nazis. Erskine had even more reasons to fear them, they had twice as many reasons to persecute him.

“But I am not one to force myself onto a much younger and prettier man. I am certain there are several boys out there, in this very camp, who would kill to receive a kiss from you, other men who would welcome you in their arms and their beds.”

“Others?” Steve frowned with an indignant pout. “But they are bullies. They love to fight just for the sake of it and obey without thinking. They’re not kind or gentle, or smart or--or funny, they’re… they’re not you…” he added, his voice breaking and his shoulders slumping. If he had liked sweet curves and red lips, Steve would have fallen for Peggy, the only worthy man in this bataillon according to him, but sadly the best man was a woman. He looked at Erskine through his long blond lashes, and he could spot the very second the scientist’s resolution became resignation.

“I’m old enough I could be your father,” Erskine tried to protest as Steve sat down beside him on the cot, facing him with his open heart and his unbearable innocence.

“You have experience and wisdom, and that is what I like.” Steve shrugged. “Cherish your age and the years you’ve lived. I’m not even sure I’ll get to see my next birthday.”

The doctor shook his head softly. “Steven…”

“I--I just don’t want to be alone tonight, Doctor Erskine. Please?”

The confession burned his lips and his cheeks were radiating with heat. Steve was on the edge of begging for a few more moments, for more talks, more intimate conversations, anything to avoid thinking of the next day. He needed more memories, more explanations of the world the way Erskine saw it. Steve just wanted to lose himself, listen to the low voice, let his words soothe him, calm him before the fear would take over his mind again.

Erskine closed his eyes with a sigh of surrender and said, “Please, call me Abraham.”

Steve’s heart bounced in his chest and he closed his fists on his knees, grinning, unable to suppress the many interrogations popping in his mind now that, for the first time, someone had responded positively to his solicitations. And now what happened? What would they do? How would they spend the night? Was he supposed to offer him another drink? Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice Abraham getting up and walking to the cabinet against the wall.

“If I didn’t know what a good man you are, Steven, I would almost think you’re a lovely trap sent by the government to set me up and force me to confess my inclinations,” he murmured to himself, rousing Steve from his thoughts. He opened the doors to reveal a beautiful gramophone and proceeded to prepare a record. Steve looked, fascinated, as he had never seen such an expensive item. The metal shone like gold, turning the sparse room into a Baroque palace for a second.

“I’m not lovely,” he whispered, not daring to speak too loud just in case music would start. Abraham placed the needle on the track and turned to him with a gentle smile.

“Oh yes, you are, more than you realize.” He held out his hand. “Are you familiar with Tchaikovsky?” Steve shook his head with a sorry pout.

“This is _The Waltz of the Flowers_ ,” Abraham explained as their hands met and he could pull him closer, gently, delicately. Steve secured his hand in his mentor’s bigger one, his legs shaking a little.

“I have never danced before,” he confessed as they started to awkwardly move face to face to the sound of an instrument Steve couldn’t identify. Abraham let out a small laugh. 

“Here I was hoping you could teach me a thing or two. I think we are gonna have to improvise.”

“That, I can do.” Steve grinned, nodding so hard a few locks swiped his brow. He followed Abraham’s directions, trying to understand how the rhythm went, how they could find a way to move together, how his heart beating was fast but for once in a pleasant sensation. He felt good in the older man’s arms, safe, warm, at peace. They stepped on each other’s feet sometimes, fumbled with their shoelaces. They lost balance and held on to each other, carried by the joyful melody but never stopped smiling. 

The rhythm was getting more and more enthusiastic and Steve with it. He dared to place his hand on Abraham's shoulder, loving how the man held him by the waist, never looking away from his gentle face. His eyes reflected a tenderness, sweet fleeting feelings that Steve could have never dreamed of. They both couldn’t promise each other a happy life only an evening of romance, a short dream before real life would take over again, and that was all Steve needed right now. Just a single moment, but a good moment.

The waltz accelerated and Abraham pulled him slightly closer, secured his hand on the small of his back and made him spin around the room, grinning at Steve’s delighted laugh. The young man was breathless, his heart ready to pop out of his chest, his legs about to give up under him, but nothing could have convinced him to stop right now. He felt good, loved, and for once understood. The song was joyful and made him forget about everything he feared. Tomorrow would come soon enough, tonight was made for peace and love.

The song became more and more pompous, the orchestra playing promises of better days, of sunny springs, blue skies and blossoming trees, and Steve felt like the most talented dancer of the world in the arms of his beloved friend. Abraham had lost his scientific rigor; he was just a man now, sensitive, loving, caring partner who looked at him like a jewel. Steve felt precious and ready to conquer the world with Abraham by his side.

When the orchestra played the last ecstatic notes, they finally stopped spinning around the room that had become for a few minutes more luxurious than the Metropolitan Opera. They were lost in each other’s eyes, smiling like two kids, holding hands not to drift away from each other. Abraham brushed his thumb on Steve’s jaw, making him shiver.

“Pretty eyes….” he whispered. “What have I done to be fancied by--”

“Why me?” Steve mocked and didn’t let him finish, rubbing his cheek on his palm. “Because you’re a good man.” The answer seemed to satisfy Abraham who let out a soft sigh and gazed lovingly at his young protege. He placed his forehead against Steve’s, apparently not eager to leave his embrace. They were so close, nose against nose, Steve still trying to catch his breath as he admired the brown and black shades in Abraham’s eyes. He tried memorizing every wrinkle, every dimple, every shadow, every light to sketch them out later. 

He remembered Bucky’s words when he had confessed his feelings. _”How can ya like boys? There’s nothing sweeter than kissing a girl! It’s what makes life good. They have soft lips, Steve! Plump and tasty! Like --like, strawberries… ya remember that time we stole strawberries? Girls-- they’re just like that!’_ And realizing that the older man would never ask for more, Steve took the initiative and slightly tilted his head to press his lips on Abraham’s. Strong fingers squeezed his hand in surprise, and he heard his mentor’s breath pause for a second. As he was about to move back, unsure of what to do and how to do it, Steve finally felt him respond, giving him his first real kiss.

When they parted, Steve didn’t look like the only one who could have an asthma attack at the moment. They grinned, eyes sparkling, and chased each other’s lips again, once, twice, several times. Bucky’s words were no more than a soft buzz in the back of Steve’s head, and he knew that smart ass didn’t know a thing about life because kissing men was incredibly good, too. Abraham’s lips were soft and sensual, even though his stubble burned a little, it made a nice contrast. The way he held him made Steve weak in the knees; he felt his legs tremble and stumbled against the stronger chest.

“S-sorry,” Steve whispered, wiping his shiny swollen lips on the back of his hand. He didn’t release his grip though, feeling too good against Abraham’s bigger frame, and brushed his nose on the fuzzy cheek.

“Don’t apologize for losing your balance,” the scientist replied with a strong accent. “Because I think I’m about to lose my English.” Steve laughed and kissed him again, more confident now that he knew what to expect.


	3. Chapter 3

From where he was, seeing how high the Moon was in the sky through the window’s curtain, Steve guessed that it was around midnight. They still had a few hours left before heading to the secret laboratory. His head rested on Abraham’s shoulder, rocked by his soft breathing, and his fingers roamed through the short curly hair on his chest. A warm arm rested around his smaller frame.

“You like them, don’t you?” Abraham smirked and Steve snorted.

“I do. I don’t have any, so I want to enjoy yours while I can,” he replied, still drawing circles in the soft fur. Abraham kissed his forehead, and Steve begged for a real kiss with pouty lips. He felt good, never had he slept in a bed warmed by another body in it. The last few hours had been filled with discoveries, better than anything Steve had ever dreamed of. His lover had treated him well. He never showed any disgust for his skinny body, never looked at his bones like they were out of place, didn’t make unpleasant remarks about his humble virility. He didn’t even complain about the breaks they had to take so that Steve could catch his breath or let his racing heart calm down. They had found a slow pace, explored each other without hurry, caressed, touched, kissed, and tasted like there would be no tomorrow.

“So, I’m not gonna die a virgin,” Steve remarked, looking up at Abraham with a cocky smile. “Or does it count? I mean, you didn’t,” Steve paused for a moment then whispered, “get inside.”

“Yes, it counts,” Abraham laughed. “I don’t think you can still claim naivety after all the things we did tonight.”

Steve rubbed his nose on his mentor’s warm throat, loving the smell of cheap soap on his skin. He rested his arm on Abraham’s torso and drew some figures with his fingertips, pondering over their dreamy night. “Why didn’t you go inside? Isn’t it what men do together?”

Abraham rolled his eyes. “I am not giving you a reason, or else I will be in trouble. And for your information, men do a whole lot of things together, Steven Rogers. Trust an old man who likes men.” Steve couldn’t contain a loud sigh but he kept playing with the fascinating chest hair until his lover rolled on his side and took him in his arms, wrapping his slightly chubby body around him.

“Fine, if you must know why, I didn’t want to hurt you, okay?”

“I could have taken it!” Steve protested with a stubborn pout.

“I know, I know you could,” Abraham insisted, smirking. “I know but risking hurting you was not a desirable option for me. I am not turned on by pain. Besides, a lot of men do it between the thighs, they have since antiquity.”

Steve chuckled against his shoulder. “Antiquity? Come on, Abe, you’re not _that_ old!”

“It’s drawn on vases, you little shrimp,” Abraham explained as his hands brushed Steve’s ribs to warm him up. “You are an artist, you should go visit museums sometimes.”

“With what money?” Steve’s tone was gently provocative, but he didn’t miss the sadness in his lover’s eyes for a second, and he regretted imposing his issues on him in such a comfortable moment.

“With your pay, soldier,” Abraham finally whispered against his ear. “You’re gonna make more money now.” Steve buried his face in the crook of the older man’s neck, shivering under his touch. He loved how Erskine pretended that everything would be okay, like how in a few hours their lives were not going to change forever. Steve wrapped his thighs around one of his legs and snuggled closer but Abraham lifted the covers to look at him.

“How are your burns?”

“I’m fine,” Steve replied with a smile. “I won’t tell them tomorrow why I’ve got them.”

“I am sorry. I should have shaved,” Abraham apologized, brushing his fingers on his chin. Steve shook his head, wrinkled his nose.

“Don’t worry, I loved your kisses, all of them. I don’t think there’s a single a part of my body you haven’t kissed tonight.” Steve couldn’t help a gasp when Abraham gently pushed him flat onto his stomach and nibbled on his earlobe.

“Actually, there is one place,” Abraham said playfully. Red up to the tip of his ears, Steve let his forehead drop against his arms. 

“Are you serious?” he mumbled against the pillow. “Down there?” The warm lips on his back already made him tremble with anticipation and his cock stiffen against the mattress.

“Only if you want me to,” Abraham teased, licking his spine. “I can even try a finger or two if you really, really insist, my stubborn little shrimp.” Steve couldn’t find the strength to answer but his low groan was clear enough. He was sighing, writhing and panting under his lover’s hands and mouth, trusting him to give him more pleasure than he could ask for. As he arched to meet his mouth, just when Abraham pulled the sheets to uncover his rear, Steve’s head snapped back.

“Hey wait! If I’m a shrimp then you’re not allowed to have me, I’m not Kosher,” he joked.

The scientist shrugged, rolled his eyes. “The worse sin would be leaving such a beautifully offered feast without a taste.” Abraham kissed Steve’s back dimples as he bubbled with laughter, really happy for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have searched the internet like a desperate explorer and haven't found any Erskine/Steve fanwork, but no one can convince me there wasn't the possibility of a cute father/kid relationship between them, or more... so now there is, at least one. I could have written many tragic parts but I didn't have the guts to separate them and be angsty, I just wanted the fluff. 
> 
> Many thanks, as usual, to my wonderful beta Nausicaa82 for her time, advice and her patience!


End file.
